


burn the candle at both ends

by dilfhakoda



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Porn, Darkfic, Dream Sex, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Blood, Nightmare Sex, Nightmares, No Fluff, One Shot, Sexual Content, Wet Dream, there is no rape or anything but it is still relatively dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilfhakoda/pseuds/dilfhakoda
Summary: The line between dreams and nightmares is not always so distinct.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), kind of - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	burn the candle at both ends

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a while, it's a little abstract and not supposed to be that sexy so sorry if you wanted that lol but i hope you enjoy!  
> If you want an explanation of the warnings check the End Notes

Thunder is booming in the sky. He can hear it. 

When Zuko opens his eyelids, there are no clouds, no stars, no moon, no sun. What should be a blue canvas is blacker than night, resembling an empty and never ending crevice that threatens to consume him. It tugs at his skin ever so slightly, teasing the possibility of vacuuming him up. 

The gravel below him digs into his flesh, scraping his feet and leaving red indents in his elbows. It hurts, but he can’t move—he’s incomprehensibly glued to the ground. Gravity feels less like a force of nature and more like a boulder, impossibly solid and heavy.

Lightning finally accompanies the thunder and dread pools in his stomach at the sight. Ferociously blue, it illuminates the sky, casting shadows on the heavens like a spark in a cave. Though the scene should be foreign, it seems all too familiar. Echoes of a cruel childhood seep into him, and suddenly his heart feels like a wet rag—weighing down Zuko’s chest, letting water leak into his lungs. 

He hears thunder once more, from inside his body. The sound reverberates painfully throughout his rib cage, knocking the wind out of him. His throat closes before he can scream in protest, and an inhuman croak escapes him. In the back of his mind, he registers the noise as the mating call of a badger frog. Such an occurrence doesn’t seem strange in the moment, not when there are voices coming from all around him—his sister’s laugh, his father’s yell, his mother’s cries for help. Zuko’s own sobs are mixed somewhere within the chorus, indistinguishable from Azula’s. 

For some reason, in the midst of all the horror, he feels arousal beginning to twist inside him, because Katara is straddling his waist and stripping her tunic off. He can’t bring himself to ask her why she’s here, or why she’s doing what she's doing. Both out of fear that she’ll stop, and the fear that has already immobilized him and refuses to let him speak. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Zuko.” She tells him, now in nothing but her undergarments. Her voice is like music to his ears, but there is still a crescendo of terror in the background, grating the ends of her words like white noise. Her face is as beautiful like as always, though there is something off about it, something besides the fact her irises are illuminating their bodies like a bright lamp, and Zuko can’t tell what it is.

Zuko wants to reply, but he doesn't. He wants to tell her how much he reciprocates her feelings, but he keeps his mouth shut. She wiggles against him, pushing against his crotch, and he gasps. 

“Do you like that?” She has a dirty and salacious look on her face that he’s never seen before on anyone, but much less Katara. The expression is accompanied by a lilt in her voice that makes him shiver. He isn't sure if it turns him on or if it scares him as much as the rest of his surroundings. 

He nods and Katara hums. She continues to move against him, her hands moving up to her bindings and slowly unraveling them. It's like a little dance, in a twisted way. Once her chest is finally bare to him, she grasps her breasts and squeezes them, putting on a show. 

Zuko’s dick is getting harder at the sight of her. He's excited, and only getting more so, even though his goosebumps have a double agenda and his skin is wet and freezing with the same intensity as it once had in the North Pole. Numbing frost is growing on his neck like a necklace that may choke him at any moment. 

Then Katara removes her hands, and they’re covered in blood, and so are her breasts, even though there’s no visible wound. Zuko jumps a little at the sight, shocked and worried. He wants to open his mouth to voice his concerns, but her bloody finger is suddenly on his lips, painting them red, and she shushes him, just as seductively as before. He can't help but comply with the motion. She looks down at him, a hunger in her eyes, and she slips her finger into his mouth—it tastes like iron, bitter on his tongue, but he sucks on it anyway. 

“Good boy…” She coos, retracting her finger, and Zuko trembles. He hears a crack of lightning somewhere in the distance, and a shriek. It might be hers, might be something he’s heard before; a cruel mimic of a memory. 

Her hands run down his abdomen, digging her nails in just slightly. Despite the fact it's only skin deep, tiny rivulets of red still emerge and run down his sides. Katara reaches his happy trail and smooths it out before slipping her hand into his pants. When her hands touch the hair on his abdomen, he feels pins and needles sticking into him. Zuko puts up with the pain in anticipation for her next move.

He’s rewarded for his patience when her fist grips his cock, tight and wet—he doesn't want to think about _why_ it's wet—and pumps him up and down. He can't hold back his groans, and when she starts picking up the pace, he begins to mewl. Loud, louder than his own discordant crying in the background, just outside his sphere of attention. Katara’s speaking to him, in that lewd way that his imagination must’ve conjured up, because he has no memories of her talking like this. He can't make out what she's saying but it turns him on even more. 

Bombs are detonating, shattering his eardrums, and his skin feels frozen over in guilt. He cums into her hand anyway. For some reason he’s still hard after, and Katara doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the fact; she is already positioning herself over him, towering over him in a comforting way that only she can accomplish.

Katara lowers herself onto Zuko and engulfs him. He whines, so needily he can’t believe the sound came from him, but his concern is discarded because the sensation of being inside her is so divine he has to wonder if Agni isn’t blessing him at this very moment. Katara moans, throws her head back like she’s trying to impress someone, and rides him. Slowly, at first, and then faster, but Zuko can barely comprehend the difference because it all feels _so good_.

For the first time since this trance has started, Zuko closes his eyes. The pleasure is nearly overwhelming, but as it builds, agony does too. The scar on his eye and torso are instantly deluged with a burning pain, but he doesn’t scream. Instead he opens his eyes, insistent on watching Katara, and does his best to ignore the blisters erupting on his face and stomach.

Her mouth opens like she’s speaking or moaning, but all Zuko hears is thunder, because the lightning has taken front stage once again, and drowns out every other possible noise. Zuko tries to tell Katara this, even though she _must_ know, but his warning is also buried underneath the static roaring. He tries once more, and though he can’t hear himself, she opens her eyes and looks at him with curiosity. The seductiveness of before is gone, and now she looks at him with the banality of a stranger. She speeds up her pace, though, and the blazing, re-opened wounds on Zuko’s body have become indistinguishable from the tightening in his groin. 

But Zuko doesn’t find his release; instead he heaves, and there’s a flash of black, then a burst of light, and then he is sitting up in his bed sheets with sweat coating his forehead and a wet spot forming on his covers.

**Author's Note:**

> Explanation of warnings: The fic is all happening during Zuko's nightmare, so while there is consensual sex going on his dream there are other parts of the setting that are off/dark. There is mild blood and descriptions of uncomfortable physical sensations, but none of that is supposed to be sexy. There is no non-con or anything.


End file.
